


I will go on shining, shining like brand new

by CherryRedBomb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, I reject your canon and substitute my own, M/M, Nobody Dies, There's a wedding, They get LONG and HAPPY LIVES, no beta reader I die better than the fucking show did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27641182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryRedBomb/pseuds/CherryRedBomb
Summary: Since there was tragically no finale for long-running TV series Supernatural following episode 15x19 (yeah 15x20 sucked so fucking bad to me rn that I’d rather keep the final Bucklemming episode over it), I’ll tell you all what happened.
Relationships: Briefly mentioned Garth Fitzgerald IV/Bess Myers, Briefly mentioned Kaia Neeves/Claire Novak, Castiel & Jack Kline & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Now I believe in what you say  
> Is the undisputed truth  
> But I have to have things my own way  
> To keep me in my youth"
> 
> -Part of Verse 2 of Goodbye Stranger, the song used in 8x17 following the Crypt Scene
> 
> Also, my perspective in being able to move forward with the time I have dedicated to this show over the years. I will always love it and believe in its characters, but that ending was shit to me and betrayed every possible expectation and hope that I had. So...this song...this verse.

When Sam and Dean stood there, facing Jack as powerful as God, they didn’t just let him wave goodbye and fade away. Sam frowned, looked down, prepared to accept it, but Dean wouldn’t. 

Dean walks up as he walks away and says, “Kid, hey kid, stop.”

And Jack does.

“Now, you brought everyone back, you’re probably not secretly torturing Amara in there, but kid, you aren’t any better than Chuck if you just walk away right now.”

Emboldened, Sam strides forward to join him. “Yeah--Jack. You’re our son. You’re _three years old_. I think you can hang around with us a while longer before you go ghost.”

Jack, who has seen Danny Phantom, smiles at the reference, before frowning slightly. “I’ve gotta fix heaven though. At the very least.”

Dean steps closer and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Promise you’ll come back though?”

And he smiles again, “Promise.”

At that, Dean pulls him into a hug that Sam joins. They stay there for a moment, basking in this tiny victory, before stepping back. 

Jack smiles at them, does his little peculiar wave, and he fades away. 

But not forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they were back at the bunker and had their drink, toasted those they lost, and looked back at the names carved on the table, they didn’t drive off into the sunset for nothing, for a cheap montage, and an even cheaper hunt an interminable amount of time later. Dean didn’t die from getting nailed (and not in a sexy way) and Sam didn’t waltz off into the most emotionally uninvested empty overlay of a life that I’ve ever seen. No.
> 
> They did get the dog though. Still a Miracle, but it wouldn’t be their only one.

Over breakfast, maybe a week or so later, Dean burnt his hands on hot bread, before spreading down a nice glob of butter, popping a squat at the counter, and looking at Sam.

“So are you waiting for her to come find you, or what?”

He coughs on his bite of eggs, maybe chokes a little bit, but Dean doesn’t buy his act.

“C’mon man, don’t play dumb. Eileen.”

Sam takes a sip of water, stares at Dean over the glass. 

“I wasn’t playing dumb.” He coughs, taking another sip of water. “And I was quite possibly choking, thanks.”

“Eh, it wasn’t gonna be the thing to kill you--I’m confident in that.”

Sam scoffs, “You’re one to talk anyway. When are we gonna do something about Cas?”   
  


“We?” 

“Yeah,  _ we _ dumbass,” he says, “Cas is my best friend and the Empty is a hell of a bigger thing to tackle then driving a few hours.”

“Uh huh, so why haven’t you done it yet?”

“Why haven’t you been looking for Cas?”

“Who says I haven’t? And hey, I asked first.”

Sam turns to get more water from the sink, ignoring his retort, but Dean still hears him mutter under his breath, “Knew it.”

“Knew what, bitch?”

“Knew you loved him too, Jerk.”

Dean stares. Sam turns around with his refilled glass and takes another sip, and then another bite of eggs before talking. Dean continues to stare. Forgets to contradict him. To lie to everyone and himself for no goddamn reason.

“I talked to Jack the other day,” Sam says then, allowing the conversation to continue.

Toast almost forgotten, Dean takes a bite of it, chewing. It works well for disguising the other reasons his jaw is working right now. The other thoughts that make him swallow hard. 

“I thought he was still…,” he waves a hand vaguely upwards, “fixing heaven.”

“He is,” Sam says, “but I found you passed out on that couch after ignoring my tenth question about what happened exactly with Cas, and so I uh, I prayed to him. And he visited for a little while.”

Dean crunches angrily through more toast. “The dean cave, Sam. And huh, you didn’t think I’d want to say hi?”

“Again, you were passed out drunk.”

“Couldn’t Jack have used a little bit of mojo to sober me up?”

“Also besides the point. He told me about the deal, Dean. And he said while he can’t bring him out, that Cas is awake in the empty. He’s spoken with him, Dean. So really, I heard it from Cas, I guess.”

Dean’s brain stops working the moment Sam says Cas is awake. That’s one thing down, one less concern to have. Cas is awake. He’s alive...technically. Dean just has to reach him. 

Another bite of toast down the gullet. He isn’t sure how much time passes. 

“Sammy, why are you telling me this?” Dean finally says, looking up at him again. 

Sam is turned around then, evidently having finished his breakfast, and Dean watches him carefully place his dishes in the sink.

He turns to face him.    
  
“Because Dean,” and his voice is pleading, “how am I supposed to just waltz off and live my happily ever after when there’s no telling how to get Cas back? I know he’s family to me Dean, and he’s even more than that to you. I can’t...I won’t leave you with things like this and a part of me knows that once I join Eileen...I just want a moment away from all of this, you know?”

Sam steps up, hands landing flat on the counter.

“I want to step away from the bunker, the Men of Letters, the everything, Dean. Saving people, Hunting things, that’s the family business, I know. But I think we both deserve a little bit of retirement, don’t you?”

  
And Sam looks at him, waiting. He also says, “And I’ve spoken with Eileen, actually. She’s been doing some digging of her own about the Empty actually. She understands why I’m still here.”

Sam smiles a bit sheepishly then. “Since I took her phone and all, that was a bit of an issue, but the first thing she did was borrow her neighbor’s and call me. Eileen and I are going to get our time Dean. We will.”

Dean swallows again, his final piece of toast, and also, perhaps, a bit of grief. 

“Damn right you will, “ he says, standing up from the counter, “and I’m gonna get Cas.”

Sam smiles at him, and it’s small, but bright. 

“Yes, you will Dean. Yes, you will.”

And he does. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

In the end, it takes a little of everyone’s help, but it’s still Dean who does it.

Sam finds a spell in Rowena’s book, Eileen links up with apocalypse Bobby and Charlie to rustle up the ingredients, and Jody and Donna show up with girls in tow for moral support and also because they need Kaia, too. Jack is there as well, helping to juice up the spell for Sam and to anchor it all via Kaia. 

Claire glares at everyone, especially Dean and Jack, and her hands don’t leave Kaia’s shoulders the entire time. But she still helps. She understands.

Together, this family is able to open a portal into the Empty.

But only Dean can go through.

He has an angel blade, the demon blade, and he doesn’t know what happens if you gank a cosmic being in the place they’re supposed to go after getting ganked in the first place, but he’s ready to find out if anyone comes between him and Cas.

The portal is there, the same place where it first appeared and took Cas. They thought the spell might work better if it took place somewhere the Empty had already appeared. Dean wears the jacket, bloodied handprint burning into his shoulder, for good luck, he thinks. The Empty is inky whispering black when he enters. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s very dark. Surprisingly, it’s not very empty.

When Dean enters, it is chaos.

“Would’ve appreciated a bit of a heads-up about this, Jack. Pfft, or Cas.”

Blue and white and gold and black eyes spark and glow around him. Countless cries and screams and grunts overlap, but Dean yells anyway, shoving his way through the masses and flashing his weapons at anyone that gets close. 

“CAS,” he yells, barely stopping to breathe, before he continues, “CAS YOU GOT YOUR EARS ON?”

“You.”

And there’s Meg in front of him. Not-Meg. Heh, nutmeg. Well--

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” and she advances on him, “it’s  _ already loud enough _ . No HUMANS  _ ALLOWED _ .”

Dean backs aways, carefully. He’d been an idiot not to notice that the hubbub around them, while still playing out, has given them space. He doubts that either blade will do anything, even in whatever state this thing is in, but he readies them both anyway. 

“Hey lady, you know I’m here for one thing. Gimme the angel and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“No angels leave this place,” she grits out, “No demons. You can leave now, or I’ll kill you. Maybe your soul will go to heaven.”

“Not leaving here without that angel, miss. Sorry, try again.” 

She stares at him. “I won’t say it again.”

Looking dead-on at Not-Meg, he yells again, “CAS!”

She raises her hands, tensed like claws, and runs at him. Dean braces himself and gets tackled, but from the wrong direction. 

Everything is dark, the bodies are numerous, and he’s lost sight of the Empty. But--

“Hello, Dean.”   
  
_ Cas _ .

He breathes his name out in response, like a relief, like a prayer. 

Dean wants to tell him now, wants to say some goddamn thing, but the words are choked up in his throat again. And surrounded by this cosmic chaos, he doubts again. He doubts that this wavelength of celestial intent could’ve lasered in on some lost boy from Kansas, just trying to outgrow Dad’s shitty old habits, and said  _ this one, I want this one _ , but then again, then again-- _ the one thing I want...I know I can’t have _ . And  _ Dean, everything you do, everything you ever did, is for love _ . 

Dammit, Dean. 

Cas is still piled on top of him and Dean is crushed by him and all the weight of the words he still can’t bring himself to say. He looks at him, at that tired face, those upturned eyes, those stubbled cheeks. 

“Dammit Cas,” he says instead, sitting up from under him, “I’m supposed to be the one saving your ass here.”

Cas slides off of him to sit by his side. He looks at him, something dropping in his face, but still so fondly that it makes Dean ache. 

“You’re supposed to say, ‘thank you,’” he says drily.

And Dean would laugh, but Not-Meg is back. 

“You,” she snarls, and Dean isn’t expecting her to be pointing at Cas, but she is. “This all started with you. He made it loud, but he only came here because of  _ you _ .” 

And then she points at Dean too. “And I’ve just now realized that  _ that _ was because of  _ you _ .” 

_ No angels leave this place. No demons.  _ Dean thinks the idea is his first, but when he looks down at his hands, he’s only holding the demon blade. 

“Cas--” Dean panics to see it in his hand. He moves to a crouch, holstering the demon blade as Castiel rises in front of him, angel blade held ready. 

“It’s okay, Dean.”

But then Cas starts moving against his own accord, being dragged forward by the Empty’s outstretched hands, frozen almost. Dean leaps to his feet, wrapping his arms around Cas’s torso from behind, and it seems to break the grip a little, enough that Cas can move his arms. 

“You can’t keep me here if I’m human,” Castiel says as if it’s a question, but then he brings the angel blade to his throat and cuts and Dean feels his heart squeeze worse than it did when Billie was actually, literally, trying to kill him. 

“NOOOOO,” the Empty screeches. 

And then many things begin happening all at once. 

Dean’s eyes, which had been transfixed as Cas’s grace, icy-blue and bright and almost unbearable to look at had dripped down from his neck, puddling at their feet before fading into the black, spot a familiar face across the crowd.

Balthazar. Of all the angels to see again…he’s waving at them...

And then Cas begins to sway, angel blade dropping from his grip. Suddenly, Gabriel is there, catching it. Dean drops one shoulder so he can loop his arm under Cas’s knees and scoop him up, bridal style. There’s no more grace leaving his neck, but the cut is still there and disturbingly, it’s beginning to bleed. 

Still, Gabe winks at them. 

“Thought Castiel would’ve had more taste. I guess he didn’t do too bad with you though--” and then, more serious, he nods in Balthazar’s direction. “Get to ballsack over there. He saw the direction you came from and I just know in my bones you weren’t paying attention Dean-o.”

As much as it smarts, he’s right. Dean had his blinders on, as usual. Gabe steps up, blocking the Empty from them.    
  
“See if you can do something about this circus, huh!” he yells over his shoulder, and then he charges and Dean starts running himself. 

Cas is barely conscious in his arms. He runs faster, reaching Balthazar and then following him silently through the mess, as quickly as they can move.

“Cas,” he says, quietly. “Cas, can you hear me.”

Cas gives a weak groan. 

And then finally, there in the wall-to-wall static blackness are those inky and terrible tendrils.    
  
“Does the one in the dirty trenchcoat know you love him too yet?” Balthazar asks, as Dean steps toward it. “Not quite sure my heart will go on if he still doesn’t know after all this.”

He almost says, “I thought you hated Titanic,” but what he does say is, “he will.”

They stumble through and Dean gets as far away from the wall as he can before he drops to his knees, holding Cas in his lap and cradling his face with one hand. 

Everybody else knows, he thinks, in this room. Why didn’t you know, you dumbass. Why didn’t I think to tell you before?

“He’s human,” he grunts out, “and bleeding. Someone get the first-aid kit,  _ please _ .”

Donna, Jody--one of them rush off, judging by the shoes he sees flash past the corner of his eye. He’s not sure who as he keeps his eyes trained on Cas’s closed ones. His chest rises and falls shallowly. 

Dean hears Sam stop chanting, and then a ripple of fear rolls through the room, potent enough that he looks up. 

Black tendrils are spreading across the wall, stretching out towards them. Towards him and Cas. 

“Jack. Sam. Kaia. What is this?”

“I don’t know, Dean. What we did, opening a door without fully summoning it--it hasn’t been done before. I--”

“I need to break the connection,” Jack says suddenly. “I wasn’t sure how, but--”

“But what--” Dean begins to say--

But then Jack reaches one hand out, stopping the inky black tendrils from writhing any further. He lifts his other hand and the tendrils wither away.

His grip on Cas’ trenchcoat iron-clad while the other stays lightly on his cheek. Dean will not lose him again. 

“Is it safe?” Jody asks, even as she drops to her knees besides Dean, first-aid kit in hand and goes to work.

Jack’s eyes are closed, his brow furrowed. His hands still lifted towards the wall. Slowly, but surely he brings them down and his forehead smoothes out. 

“Amara says she can take care of it,” he says, opening his eyes and smiling. “She says, ‘what is the Empty, but another kind--”

“Of Darkness,” Amara finishes, rising from the black dust that had fallen to the floor. “Thank you, Jack. You were a kinder host than Chuck, but balance doesn’t mean we have to live in each other’s pockets. I will handle this, and you can handle the Earth and the heavens.”

She spares a glance at Dean’s hand on Cas’ arm. “I hope this means that you’ve found your own happiness,” she says.

  
And then she’s gone. 

Jack steps up to them and crouches down, the only one seemingly unfazed by that turn in events.    
  
“Here, let me,” he says, and Jody sits back. His hand glows, like Castiel’s always did, as he hovers it over his neck. “You can remove the bandage, it’ll be unnecessary.”

And Castiel opens his eyes. 

First, he looks up at Jack, and smiles a smile full of such warmth. “Thank you, Jack.”

Second, he sits up and out of Dean’s lap, allowing Dean’s hand to fall away from his cheek, and looking around the room. 

“Thank you, everyone,” he says.

Third, he looks at Dean, like he’s the only person there. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean looks back in the same way, hoping it will convey  _ everything _ , and he tries cracking a joke, “I thought I was the one who was supposed to say thank you.” 

Cas’s smile is small and wry, but fleeting. It drops as he speaks again, “I want you to know that I meant what I said.”

Dean stares back at him, “I know, but do you know?”

That damn head tilt. Dean smiles and his eyes crinkle so hard from that damn damn head tilt, just like always. He once said,  _ Cas don’t ever change _ , and they both have, so much over the years, but some things never do. 

He clears his throat. 

“You said I do everything for love, Cas. Take a big fat guess why we---why I--did all this to haul your ass out of the Empty. Just one guess, because I’d like to think you’re pretty smart.”

Cas’s mouth falls open, the world’s tiniest  _ oh _ . 

But he deserves to hear it, too. Dean moves to face him properly, and places his right hand back onto his cheek. 

“I love you too, Cas,” Dean tells him, in front of everyone, “you can have it.”

“I can?” Cas asks, incredulous.

And Dean nods, opening his mouth to tell him again, but then Cas’s hand comes to grip his shoulder, latching onto the handprint like it's a goddamn magnet, and he’s surging forward to kiss Dean.

Faintly, Dean registers some of the others in the room whooping. Even the damn dog is barking. He couldn’t give two shakes of a rat’s ass. 

It’s everything Dean thought he could never have. And apparently the same goes for Cas.

“What a couple of dumbasses we are,” he says, softly, when Cas pulls away.

Cas smiles at him like he’s the fucking sun or something and says, “Less dumb, less ass.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately Jack remains God in this version of the story, but he doesn’t stay distant. Chuck is gone, they're free and the family is actually together, and their lives go on. Their lives go on **happily**

After a celebratory dinner with all, most hit the road to return to their own respective homes, but Sam and Eileen and Dean and Cas and Jack all linger around the map table, a few pairs of eyes still trained on the door before turning to each other.

“So,” Sam starts.

“So,’ Dean picks up, guessing where he’s going, “Jack, you can be all-powerful and omnipresent anywhere, right?”

“As far as I know, right,” Jack nods. 

Eileen, fitting right in with the family, signs to him, _So why not stay here, then?_

“With your family, for a little while, at least,” Cas says, and Dean hooks his arm tighter around him, keeping him close to his side. 

“I…,” and Jack pauses, and they all wait, not wanting to push him too much more, but all desperately hoping he’ll stay. For a little while, at least.

“I guess you’re right,” Jack says, “I’ll stay for a little while, at least.”

…

And so they settle into a new routine. To a life beyond world-ending apocalypses and self-sacrificing deals, and into something that blends domesticity with a more casual hunter lifestyle. Jack flits in and out, much like Cas used to, and it’s all Dean can do not to say, “like father, like son,” every time he pops up in the Impala’s backseat after deciding to join in on a grocery-run. Sam yells, “GROSS” through the door the first time he sees a blue-tie hanging loosely from his bedroom door handle, but when the brothers both enter the kitchen for a midnight snack later, he punches his shoulder and he grins. 

Eileen moves into the bunker with them, and later that year, they celebrate their first-ever actual Winchester Christmas within its walls (sorry Mrs.Butters, but it wasn’t tis the season that time). They sit around the tree, exchanging gifts, and Castiel regales them with tales of the actual Jesus Christ, and Dean tries and fails not to get jealous.

Time passes, maybe a year or so goes by, and Sam and Eileen decide to move out, find a house somewhere back in Lawrence. Cas and Dean are sad to lose them, but they know they have each other now--now and forever--and Miracle, too, that portentous pup. They’ll be okay. 

Jack, of course, still pops in from time to time. A little less frequently though, as he now splits his time between the two Winchester households _and_ the rest of the ageless universe. 

Not long after that, Sam sends a picture, an engagement ring on Eileen’s finger. Then he calls. 

“You’ll be my best man, of course,” Sam tells him over the phone, and Dean smiles, the pawn-shop rings he and Cas picked out and shined up the week before when they went to the courthouse shining on their intertwined fingers. 

Cas fell asleep in Dean’s lap during the movie they were watching and their hands rested upon his chest now, rising and falling with each fragile, human breath. 

“Dean?” Sam says.

“Of course I will,” Dean says back, “there was never any question about it.” 

\---

Their wedding takes place the next summer and it is a surprisingly low-key outdoor affair. The apocalypse-world hunters, Charlie and Stevie and Bobby and the rest are all there. So, too, are Jody and Donna and the girls. Garth and Bess, their daughter and the twins, now toddling around, fill out more of the seats. Jack sits with Cas in the front row. 

Dean would swear that Cas’s eyes never leave him. Every time Dean peeks over at him, he’s staring, and the blush that colors his cheeks just won’t stop. 

A moment later Dean catches Sam’s eye as they both look over the entire crowd one last time. A few seats in the first two rows remain empty, intentionally so, an acknowledgement of those that they’ve lost, too.

The wedding is beautiful, and a whirlwind after that. There’s a tiered-cake, but Sam got Dean a pie just for him, too, and he and Cas share a few slices before being pulled onto the dance-floor by Jody and Donna.   
  
Eventually, they end up back together, and when Cas takes Dean’s hands, it’s all he can do not to curse himself for all the wasted years, the deaths and the sacrifices and the miscommunications. 

“Dean,” Cas says in that gravelly deep voice that makes his stomach drop in an entirely different way now than it once did in that barn way back when. “Are you alright?”

And he sways with Cas for a moment, one hand resting on his back, the other holding his tight, before answering him.

“Just thinking a little too much about the past, that’s all,” Dean says, “It’s not important now.”

“I treasure every moment of our history, Dean,” Cas says back, intensely, but also, “I know what you mean.” 

And he leans his forehead in to rest against Dean’s for a moment. 

“I love you, Cas,” Dean tells him, again, because he deserves to always hear it. To always know.

“I know,” Cas says, “and I love you too.”

On a whim, Dean pulls back and spins him and Cas, well-practiced from soft evenings in the bunker, rolls with it, fingers sliding just slightly as he moves away, before coming back in for the dip. 

When he brings him back up, Cas kisses him sweetly before pulling back. The smile on his face is radiant and Dean basks in it. 

You know...

He always thought he could be a good dancer if wanted to.

  
  



End file.
